


Hot and Bothered

by McLavellan



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games)
Genre: Awkward Crush, M/M, Masturbation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-06
Updated: 2018-12-06
Packaged: 2019-09-13 04:24:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,905
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16885572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/McLavellan/pseuds/McLavellan
Summary: Cullen returns to Skyhold where an old acquaintance is visiting. An awkward crush is reawakened in the Commander.





	Hot and Bothered

**Author's Note:**

> Teen for some bad language and, uh, self love ;)
> 
> Prompted and beta read by [Handersmyheart](https://archiveofourown.org/users/handersmyheart/works)

How was it?” Leliana held her hand out to carry his pack, but he gave her a half smile and shouldered it.

“Interesting. We found the rebels in a cave, half dead from starvation and bad weather. I'm not entirely sure my presence was needed.”

“It was a good exercise. People look up to you,” she shrugged.

He'd spent enough time with her to, not necessarily be certain, but to at least suspect she had known it would be an easy task. Cassandra had already lectured him about getting out of his tower and taking a break. And to Cassandra, beating the shit out of rebels was a fine way to relax.

“You have an old friend visiting.” She said with such sly caution that he felt a shiver, thought to Samson, or Meredith, stone or otherwise, and looked to her sharply.

“You react to the word ‘friend’ with far more fear than is healthy.”

“And you would react differently, Nightingale?”

“That's fair.”

Still, he'd relaxed by the time they entered the Great Hall, simply curious by then.

“Cullen,” came a heavy-accented but beautifully soft voice that stopped him in his tracks. “Commander, I should say.”

Sebastian Vael turned to him, away from a small gathering of nobles, and his smile seemed like Cullen to be the dawn, bringing light to the darkness. While birds sang. And butterflies flitted about his stomach.

“It's good to see you.”

“Yes. Fine thank you. And you?” The words came out of Cullen's mouth a few seconds before he registered them and he cringed. Sebastian was looking at him, bemused, while a pair of Orlesians tittered behind their masks.

“Sorry. Journey… Long. And…. Uh, goodness. Inquisitor. I need to report. Good day.” He rushed to the safety of the war room, slamming the door and leaning over the table, head hanging. “Fuuuuuuck.”

“That bad?”

Cullen jumped, cursing and then drawing it out into a sigh as he saw the Inquisitor.

“Sorry,” he said, forcing a laugh. “Just a long day.”

The Inquisitor gave him a worried looked but changed it up at seeing his expression. “Sorry. But I  _ am _ allowed to worry about my favourite commander. We can postpone and meet tomorrow if you'd prefer?”

Cullen declined a little too fast. “There's not much to tell really.” And so they went over the few details needed and it seemed enough time for Cullen to stop seeing, in slow motion, with tunnel vision and little pink hearts, the sight of Sebastian, turning, eyes catching him, lighting up, and then that smile…

“Cullen?”

Or not.

“Cullen, are you alright?”

“Tired, that's all,” he smiled.

But the Maker was testing him. As they walked into Josephine's office, the Prince was sat by her desk, legs elegantly crossed as they discussed a mutual partnership.

“Oh you're in  _ here _ now.”

“Sorry?” Sebastian asked, smile faltering a little.

“No I didn't mean--I'm not…. - you're allowed to be here it's great here, actually. Josephine is…. She's  _ great _ .”

He felt a hand fall on his shoulder and looked at the Inquisitor.

“And the Commander needs some sleep, I think.”

Sebastian's smile came back but seemed muted. “Oh. It's lovely that you have each other.”

“We don't. We're just fr-” Cullen bit the inside of his mouth and gave the room a curt nod before rushing away to his office. He didn't have time to notice the paperwork stacked on his desk before Cassandra entered, kicking the door shut behind herself and staring at him, long and hard. Long… And… he shook his head.

“Can I help you?”

“You're being weird,” she told him. It wasn't even an accusation. Her tone put it quite clearly as a fact. “Three people have told me so.”

“I'm fine. I just need a little nap.”

She was still staring.

“I guess seeing Seb-seeing the Prince was unexpected. That's all.”

Her gaze wandered over him carefully before she nodded, gave him an “I'm watching you” gesture and left.

After that, Cullen only half kept his word. He went to bed, but he did not nap straight away. He thought about things he'd never admit to thinking about, pushing them deep back into his mind once he was sated, sweaty and feeling soft around the edges as he hugged his pillow close to his chest and fell asleep.

He woke up hard.

For a few moments he looked up to the hole in his roof and watched clouds pass by a brilliant blue sky. He wanted to think about that person again but he couldn't even name him in his own head - he was so ashamed. So he tried to think of some faceless person, just their hand, as he stroked himself.

_ Cullen. Commander, I should say. _

“No. Don't you dare,” he warned himself. “Don't you dare.” He moaned as he saw a smile and came, saw himself in his mind's eye coming on those beautiful features. And, oh, the shame that followed. He cleaned himself up, got dressed, and attacked the paperwork on his desk, cursing Leliana for ever suggesting he go deal with the rebels himself.

Just as there was no escaping his work, there was no escaping Sebastian.

“Prince, Uh, Vael. Sebastian.” He knocked a stack of papers over as he stood and, at this point, could only close his eyes and wish he were smoother. Like Dorian. The man was as smooth as his pristine skin.  _ What does Sebastian's skin feel like…. _

“Sebastian is fine. We're old… Acquaintances after all. I was glad when Varric told me that you were here and doing better. He said you, uh, how can I put it in sensible terms..?”

“I'm less of an uptight dickhole and not as depressing to be around?”

Sebastian smiled, sympathetically. “Actually, those were his words exactly. Yes. You still seem troubled though…”

“I do?” he asked, dropping some of the papers he'd just picked up. He bent down to get them, too fast, and wobbled dizzily. Something stopped him tipping over completely and when he realised it was Sebastian's hand, he jerked back and knocked his chair over.

“You do. Just a little.” his smile was friendly and inviting and Cullen remembered the nights he'd spent wishing he could take those lips  with his own. Or see them stretched over his--

“Right. Yes. I… Don't mean to be?”

And now Sebastian looked worried. Cullen felt such a selfish fool letting his feelings, the ones he was supposed to be denying, make Sebastian feel anything but cherished.

“I'm just concerned that you think I might judge you. For leaving the Templars. But, truly, after all you went through, I can't blame you.”

He looked so sincere. So sorry. So thoughtful. And it made Cullen feel so much worse for the truth he was hiding that, frankly -

“No I just fancy-” oh shit. “I fancy… umm. That I'm probably still tired.”

“Too much so for a game of chess?” Sebastian asked with a slight smile. “I've heard you can be a bugger to beat.”

“No, you can beat me if you want. Uh. To try. If you want to try. Sorry. Word vomit. Roughing and men. With the men. In the wild. Out… in camp.” He took a breath. “I've been out roughing it in the wild. With the soldiers. I've forgotten how to be civilised.”

“I'm sure a game of chess will remind you. You look like you could do with some fresh air too… you look a little hot.”

Cullen hurriedly wiped his forehead on his sleeve though he could still feel the sweat around his eyes and his lips.

“Yes. Little…. Hot and bothered,” Cullen muttered.

They walked to garden with Sebastian chatting away and Cullen telling his body which foot to move, and when, and how. He made it without stumbling, though he was vaguely aware he might be walking like a man who'd shat his pants.

“Don't you think?”

“Hm? Sorry what, I didn't catch that.”

“I was just saying this would make a lovely Chantry garden. Not quite as grand as the one in Kirkwall…. But calmer.”

“Oh. Yes. It's peaceful for the most part,” he nodded, shooting a look towards Mother Giselle. She'd had a problem with him spending time at the board with Dorian. Would she presume he was capable of unsavoury relationships with a Prince? The way she was looking at Sebastian admiringly suggested not. She was practically gawking.

“Cullen, I'm going to keep asking if you're alright until you are or you tell me what's wrong.”

His attention snapped back from frowning jealously at the woman to see Sebastian looking at him tenderly.  _ No, not tenderly _ . Like a decent man who cared about people.  _ Nothing more. He wants nothing more. _

“Sorry.”

They settled into a game, Cullen struggling not to knock pieces over as he made his moves, trying to keep up with the conversation while directing his body. Sebastian talked about Kirkwall as if the terrible things that happened weren't as important as the good. Cullen wanted to hold onto that, pretend Sebastian just wanted to butter him up before they talked business, discussed trade and templars and soldiers and war. But perhaps the man just wanted to forget just as much as Cullen did. Warp it into something more beautiful, more intimate.

“I'm just going to say it,” Sebastian said firmly, as Cullen mopped the sweat from his forehead. “Is it the lyrium withdrawal? I heard that you're not taking it and I'm not sure it's safe. If anything I was… incredibly proud of your bravery. Inspired. I told myself you would be fine, you would battle through. But seeing you… Cullen. I don't…. I don't want you to suffer like this. There must be a way…. “

_ He doesn't care like that. He's just being nice. He's nice to everyone. He was nice to Anders before he demanded his head. Oh god  _ head _. NO, he's a faithful man. _

“Cullen, I keep losing you. Where do you keep going?” Sebastian touched his hand and he yelped. “Cullen?”

“I just… I just can't. I'm sorry. It's stupid. Pathetic. It's not you, nor the lyrium. It's me.”

He stood from the table, knocking pieces over, and ran to his office. He didn't stop to satisfy curious gazes or answer questions. He ran straight to his room, picked up the chair that was still on the floor, and smashed it against a wall.

“You're a  _ fucking idiot _ , Rutherford,” he growled at himself. He sniffed and rubbed his head as he turned. His eyes met Sebastian's and, before he could react, the Prince was lifting his hands apologetically.

“Please. Let me speak. I never meant for this. I thought I was keeping my… desires… well hidden. But I see I have made you uncomfortable with my attention. And, please. I… I hate that people think they can't tell me these things because I'm a prince. I'm a man. I…. like you. Very much. And that you don't feel the same, is... disappointing. To  _ me _ . But it's no crime. I will leave you alone now.”

The voice that was picking up in Cullen's head, telling him it wasn't real, it was a trick, was silenced as Cullen wrapped his arms around Sebastian and kissed him - or tried. They bumped noses and he wiped his mouth across Sebastian's cheek.

“Oh for fu-”

Laughing, Sebastian held his face, slowed time, and kissed him softly. 


End file.
